


Hurt and Comfort

by Piper_Ronnie



Category: League of Legends RPF
Genre: (yes that is the name), 69, After Worlds quarterfinals 2020, Anger, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Kind of ayaya related but not really, L9 Oskar, Lots of past drama, M/M, Mentions of Violence, Mirror Mirror On The Wall, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rekkles is a sad boy, Sad and Sweet, Smut, friendly (?) competition, who's the biggest hoe of them all, yes this is ayaya!Miky
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:07:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27066112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piper_Ronnie/pseuds/Piper_Ronnie
Summary: After experiencing a devistating loss in the Worlds' quarterfinals 2020, all of Fnatic's players are feeling hurt just the same.The way in which they look for comfort does, however, differ quite drastically.
Relationships: Martin "Rekkles" Larsson/Rasmus "Caps" Winther (past), Martin "Rekkles" Larsson/Tim "Nemesis" Lipovšek (past), Oskar "Selfmade" Boderek/Martin "Rekkles" Larsson, Oskar "Selfmade" Boderek/Rasmus "Caps" Winther, Oskar "Selfmade" Boderek/Tim "Nemesis" Lipovšek, Zdravets "Hylissang" Galabov/Gabriël "Bwipo" Rauh
Comments: 11
Kudos: 37





	1. I wanted to do it for you (Bwipo & Hyli)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, hello, hello! Welcome to Coping-with-another-Worlds-Loss-101! 
> 
> I know it's not usually my style, but I was craving some sweet stuff after watching today's heart-shattering series. The title is kind of as ironic as it gets for my writing, but oh well... 
> 
> I can only imagine how the players must be hurting if it's already this difficult for a mere fan, so let's get the boys some comfort, shall we?

“Well, that was not pog at all. Or... depressing, I guess,” Bwipo sighed as he closed the door of his hotel room behind him. Even though all of the Fnatic players had done their best to keep their heads held high during the post-game conferences and every other duty that ensued, but that didn’t mean that they weren’t hurting. Terribly so, even.

“I know, but you did really well,” Hylissang said softly, sitting down at the edge of the double bed. He had his own room, sure – but the support preferred staying with the toplaner on most nights. They weren’t used to sleeping apart back home, why would they start now?

“You don’t think my smile was a little too much?” The Belgian muttered. He stopped in front of the room’s huge mirror near the door to look at his face for a brief moment before walking up to his support.

“Not at all… it helped, actually,” Zdravets suggested with a hint of a smile on his lips.

“You think?”

“Yeah, I don’t think I could have handled this whole… conference situation without you.” Hyli sighed, hanging his head down low.

Gabriël took a couple of steps into the support’s direction to put one hand on his shoulder. “I wasn’t even sitting next to you, you know?” He muttered as Hyli leaned his forehead against the toplaner’s belly. Bwipo felt the other guy’s hands on his back, holding him close – it almost felt as if they were shaking.

“But you were still _there_ …”

“Not when I should have been,” Bwipo flinched. It hurt to admit it, but it felt as if the downfall of this series lasted on his shoulders somehow – it was even more apparent to the toplaner now that he saw his support and lover crumble in agony right in front of him.

“What do you mean…?” Zdravets breathed, barely audible as his face was buried in Bwipo’s huge jersey.

“You know… we just needed one more win. A better toplaner could have gotten us that win.” The Belgian bit his lip.

“What? But Gabriël…” Hyli whispered, looking up at the toplaner’s face in a flash.

“I really wanted to do this for you, Zdravets,” Bwipo said softly, feeling his voice crack, “I wanted to give you another shot at Worlds – I wanted it to be us, in the finale, and –“

“Aww no, Gabriël, please…!” The support hummed, pulling the toplaner down to sit on the bed next to him with a strength that never failed to impress Bwipo. Despite their obvious difference in size, Hyli knew when to hold his boyfriend in his strong arms – and now was one of these moments.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, okay?” Bwipo sobbed against Hyli’s chest with closed eyes. He allowed himself to let lose, to let all of his anger and frustration and sadness out – because he was safe. With Zdravets, he always felt safe.

“It’s okay, shh, it’s okay,” Zdravets mumbled softly, stroking the bigger guy’s back lovingly.

They sat there for a bit, holding each other as closely as their arms allowed them to. Considering that they had not been able to touch each other all day long, as there was barely a camera-free moment on a gameday like this, it felt even sweeter. If only their tears hadn’t been there to tint their bliss in gloomy colours.

“You know…” Hyli whispered, running his fingers through the toplaner’s dark locks, “I really wanted to do it for you, too.”

“I know – of course I know,” Bwipo stuttered as he lifted his head, “and you played like a damn mad man on that stage!”

“Well, so did you,” Zdravets remarked with a faint smile on his lips. His hand wandered down to trace the other guy’s jawline until he reached his statement piece of a beard.

“I guess we did do our best,” Gabriël smiled back, lifting his hand to carefully wipe the tear that was trailing down Zdravet’s cheek away.

“Yeah… I guess we did.” Hyli’s gaze was fixed on Bwipo’s beard while his fingers were playing with it. 

“Are you still getting used to the beard?” The toplaner chuckled.

“Kind of… not saying I hate it, though,” Zdravets mumbled. His fingers stroked Bwipo’s bottom lip ever so slightly.

“Hmm, I hope so, but I could always shave,” Gabriël remarked with a slight shrug, “your new glasses, on the other hand…”

“What about them?” Hyli asked, looking back up into the toplaner’s eyes. Their faces were close enough for them to touch any minute now – but not quite yet. Instead, the support looked insecure all of a sudden. “Mithy said I should get this pair… don’t tell me you don’t like them?”

“W-what?” Bwipo huffed, pulling the support a bit closer to him with his hands holding onto the other guy’s waist, “don’t be ridiculous! I don’t like them, I _love_ them…! I didn’t think you could look any better, but you just keep surprising me…!”

“Aww, no, stop it, Gabriël,” Zdravets chuckled shyly, glancing away as his cheeks turned red, “you really think they are that pretty?”

“No, _you’re_ that pretty!” The toplaner exclaimed as he started attacking the cheek the support had turned on him with soft smooches.

“You big dummy…” Zdravets mumbled softly.

With both of his hands up on the back of Bwipo’s head, he guided the toplaner’s lips to his. A kiss that was as hesitant as the first one they had shared many moons ago at first turned much more passionate within seconds. With their hands all over the place and their bodies rubbing up against each other, it almost felt as if Bwipo and Hyli wanted nothing more than to just melt into each other. Feel so close that they’d never have to part – be it lips or paths. In an effort to make up for everything they had lost that day – be it time to be affectionate or Worlds – it was a kiss that went on forever, and ever, and then some more. As Zdravets softly pulled Gabriël back to lie down on the bed, the toplaner pulled away from the kiss for a moment to look his lover into his wondering eyes.

“Zdravets…?” He whispered, still breathing a little heavier than usual.

“Yeah…?”

“This was not the last time we ever played together, right?”

“What?” Zdravets huffed, giving the toplaner a concerned look, “where is that coming from all of a sudden?”

“I just… I don’t know, I just got scared,” Bwipo muttered with a slight shrug, “what if we can’t… both stay with Fnatic?”

“Don’t even think about that,” Zdravets replied, shaking his head with determination, “it doesn’t matter right now, not at all…!”

“Well… I just want you to know,” Gabriël went on, “that even if you were to go somewhere else… I would come with you, you know?”

“Come with me? Don’t you think it would be the other way around?” The support mumbled with a sad smile, “you really think a team would want Coinflip-Hylissang over you?”

“Pff, they’d be stupid if they didn’t!” Bwipo smirked, pulling his boyfriend a little closer to him to rub his cheek against his. “I’d go wherever if that meant we could be together, okay?”

“Okay…” Zdravets smiled, “I still hope we can just… both stay, right?”

“Yeah…” Gabriël sighed with a nod. “If not, I could always just become a caster, right? People love having me on the broadcast!”

“Come on, Gabriël,” the support hummed with a smile, “just because you can do it doesn’t mean you should – you’re way too good of a player for that.”

“Hey, I’m trying to be romantic over here!” The toplaner laughed, burying his face in the Bulgarian’s neck. Zdravets laughed at first, as he was way more ticklish than anyone would expect, but he stopped in the next second, suddenly lifting his head to look at the closed door of the room. It took Bwipo a moment to understand why – there were voices echoing through the hallway.

“Was that Oskar?” Zdravets mumbled. With his hands still up on the toplaner’s back, Bwipo could feel the support’s fingers tap up and down nervously.

“I didn’t hear anything…”

“What? There – there, I heard it again,” the support moaned, wiggling under the toplaner’s constrictive hold, “we should go check – wasn’t that Martin, too?”

“Shh, Zdravets…” Bwipo whispered, shifting his body a little to calm the Bulgarian down. His talents as a weighted blanket were uncontested, after all.

“Don’t you think… there might be trouble?” Zdravets mumbled sullenly, closing his eyes.

“Let’s just stay here for now, okay? Just us,” the toplaner went on, trailing soft kisses down the side of the support’s neck, “they are big enough to figure their own stuff out.”

“You really – ahh – you really think so?” Zdravets stammered as he dug his fingers into the other guy’s back a little more firmly.

“Definitely… you and Mithy taught them well, after all…”

“N-not you and me?” The support asked hesitantly. The fact that he didn’t question his own parental involvement in the other player’s lifes made Bwipo chuckle. “Normally I’d always say you and me, but in this case, you guys got it all under control…” He smirked.

“Well… I guess I can let it go for one night,” Hyli mumbled, smiling right back.

“You’d really do that for me?” Bwipo asked, grinning against the Bulgarian’s collarbone.

“Oh, I wanna do a whole lot more for you, actually,” Zdravets muttered faintly.

From one moment to the other, Gabriël felt Hyli’s hands wander down his body, soon playing with the waist band of his jogging pants. The feeling was enough to make him hold his breath. Within seconds, he could feel his pants feel a little too tight, and the way in which his boyfriend was pressing up against his upper thigh was enough for him to understand that the feeling was mutual. Considering that the both of them had mostly stayed abstinent due to lack of time and energy during their preparation for the quarterfinals, it was no surprise – still, for some reason, the toplaner hesitated.

“R-really?” He stuttered, glancing back and forth between the support’s loving stare and his adventurous hands, “I mean…”

“It’s okay, right?” Zdravets hummed, now looking slightly flustered as well, “but only if you’d like to, we could also watch a movie or –“

“No, no Zdravets, don’t get me wrong,” Bwipo said hastily, carefully slipping his right hand up the support’s jersey to caress his lower back sensually. Zdravets gasped, blushing even harder, but his hands kept on moving. Gabriël’s heart skipped a beat as he thought about tasting the support’s smile again – oh, he simply couldn’t get enough. “Zdravets…” He whispered, softly brushing their lips together for a second.

“Y-yeah…?”

“Nothing, just… I really want to do it for you, too.”

“Just – just come here, then!” Zdravets giggled as he pulled Gabriël down into his arms and a kiss that was just as filled with passion as the first, or the one after, or anywhere in between the thousand others. Not all things could last forever, that much was clear to any professional player in the scene. But, in this wonderful moment, which arose out of bitter sadness, it felt like there might just be no end in sight.


	2. You think you’re something, don’t you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had very different plans for this chapter at first, but this sort of just happened. Took a very different turn than the first one but... 
> 
> ... hey, comfort is comfort, right?
> 
> PS: Shoutout to Just_A_Sea_Lion's "A Real man". You'll see why.

You’d think that someone as experienced as Martin Rekkles Larsson would have gotten used to being eliminated from Worlds by now. Year after year, he strived for greatness – only to have his hopes shattered right on the finish line. And then, after he had collected the bits and pieces that remained of him and glued them back together, a new year began, with new hopes, new dreams, new teammates even – just to have the tedious and tiring cycle repeat itself. Sure, it was better than _not_ making Worlds – Martin still shuddered every time he thought about the cursed year of 2016 – but, still, packing his bag after a loss on the biggest stage of competitive League of Legends never ceased to hurt like hell. This time was no exception. After almost taking TES down, the Swede fell into a pit that seemed to be even deeper than ever before – so deep that he feared drowning in the sorrow that overcame him as soon as he left the torture that others would describe as a press conference.

He just wanted to get away from it all – from all the cameras trying to catch his reactions, from the nosy media spokespeople that just wanted one little interview, from his teammates that somehow tried to cheer each other up despite their obvious heartbreak – simply from everything. Now, that didn’t mean that he wanted to be alone. No, Martin was looking for his own sort of comfort. But, before he had even exited the stage, maybe even weeks before that, he had realized that there was only one person he’d want to be comforted by in this moment. The answer was lying right in front of him, deeply carved into his mind as “post-Worlds-trauma”: _Caps_. Oh, how badly he wanted to be close to the midlaner that had once deserted him in this very moment. His desire was almost blinding, to the point where the ADC could blend out his gloom, even if it was just for a short while.

It was, therefore, no surprise that he left his hotel room again as soon as he had changed into a different set of clothes. The Swede had one and only one destination in mind: G2’s lion’s den. He’d risk getting caught by Perkz, or Jankos, or even Miky – it simply didn’t matter. _It’s all worth it if I get to see him_ , Martin thought as he shoved his key card into his sweatpants, _it’s all worth it if only I -_

“Woah, watch where you’re going!” Selfmade scoffed, barely dodging the daydreaming ADC as he barged out of his room.

“I – oh, Oskar, sorry about that,” Martin mumbled, giving the jungler an apologetic nod.

“It’s whatever, but… where are you going?” The Pole replied, curiously glancing down at Martin’s new outfit.

The jungler had changed into a lose hoodie as well, but the ADC didn’t feel like asking about it – he just wanted to make sure that he didn’t say anything suspicious. That the other guy wouldn’t get suspicious of his plan. _God forbid that any of my teammates find out about this_ , Martin thought as he pulled on the seam of his jacket – no, that would be even more catastrophic than being teased by the G2 idiots. “I just wanted to walk around a bit to… calm down, you know?” The Swede lied.

“Oh, I see… same, actually,” Oskar replied as he started walking with his hands in his pockets. It was no surprise that they were both heading towards the elevator.

“Right… well,” Martin muttered nervously, avoiding eye contact as much as possible, “how are you… holding up?”

Oskar squinted back at him. “What is that supposed to mean? I feel like shit,” the jungler said grumpily.

“Oh… yeah, right. Me too I guess.” The Swede added hesitantly.

It was painfully obvious, of course. He had known before he asked. But still, over all these years of experiencing crushing losses, Martin had never learnt what to say to ease his teammates’ pain. Hell, he had never heard words that made him hurt any less. Things were even more awkward now that it wasn’t just anyone he was walking beside ever so clumsily. No, of course it had to be Oskar.

After filming that cursed BFF challenge with the jungler some weeks before, their relationship seemingly had gotten even worse – despite the jungler’s attempts to ‘play nice for the camera’, his snarky remarks had stung. His glares had almost pierced Martin’s skin. And, as for the most obvious part, he had, yet again, almost gotten into a physical fight with the Pole the night after the shoot, for no real reason whatsoever. Yes, tensions were still running high enough to make Martin pray that they’d reach the elevator soon. Or maybe that Oskar would remember that he forgot something in his room to turn around. Just anything that would make them part ways.

“We were not even that bad,” Oskar hummed after a painfully long pause.

“Yeah…” The ADC remarked with a sigh.

“Why does that make it worse, I wonder?” The jungler mumbled as he pressed the button of the elevator, only to let his hand slip back into his pocket right after.

“Just because… it was really close,” Martin mumbled.

“Yeah, no shit,” Oskar grumbled, almost as if he had not just asked the other guy about it.

Martin rolled his eyes with his head turned to the side, hoping that the jungler wouldn’t notice. Even though it was obvious that Oskar was hurting, Martin was not about to give him a free pass for his provocations. Then again, when was the last time he had not felt provoked by the jungler’s behaviour? _Just ignore it_ , Martin thought, taking a deep breath as he entered the elevator, directly followed by the Poles aggressive steps behind him _, just ignore it, a couple more minutes and he’ll be gone_.

“Which floor?” Oskar asked more or less reluctantly, as Martin had turned his back on him to look at his reflection in the mirror wall to avoid talking to him.

“Oh, right… 22,” the ADC murmured with his eyes still fixated on his hair. Something didn’t look right, but he couldn’t quite tell what it was. If he hadn’t gotten used to the face mask he was normally wearing these days, he probably would have blamed this rather new accessory. But, alas…

“…22?” Oskar repeated after a short pause.

“Yeah, the button should be somewhere in the middle, why?” Martin sighed, turning back around to make sure he’d reach his destination as fast as possible. The jungler was just standing there, looking at the collection of buttons in front of him. Only number twenty-two was beaming bright red. “You already pressed it, dude, what’s the matter?”

“I pressed it for myself,” the jungler muttered, now glaring back at the Swede, “why would you want to go to floor 22?”

“Ah, well, uhm,” Martin stammered, “I – I could ask you the same thing, right?”

“Yeah, but I asked first.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” The ADC huffed, leaning back against the wall of the elevator with his arms crossed, “well, if you must know… Pete, uhm, yes, Pete told me there was a gym I should check out. A smaller, less crowded one.”

“A gym? And you want to do that now?” Oskar asked with one brow cocked up, “after our most devastating loss of the year, you want to look at… a gym?”

“You make that sound like I’m crazy or something,” Martin mumbled with a pouty expression on his face. Sure, it wasn’t the most believable excuse he could have come up with, but believable enough, right? Besides, he was way more interested in the jungler’s reasons for visiting floor 22. Except for the most obvious one, Martin couldn’t think of any beyond his imaginary gym. Unless…

“Not crazy, but… unusual, I guess,” the Pole shrugged. Martin wondered whether Oskar had always looked at him with this insane amount of disdain in his eyes. Back in the day, he could have sworn that the jungler had admired him. But those days were gone.

“Well, tell me, what’s your perfectly _usual_ reason to be here?” Martin asked as soon as the doors of the elevator opened back up smoothly. The red carpet of the long corridor on the other side welcomed them a little too festively.

“None of your fucking business,” the jungler shrugged as he strolled ahead.

“Are you kidding me??” Martin scoffed as he followed suit with fast steps, trying to catch up to the other guy. Ironically enough, they were, again, walking into the same direction.

“Now, _why_ would I _ever_ do that, Martin, huh?” Oskar went on, gesturing with his right hand while keeping his left hidden in his pocket.

“Would you just stop?” The ADC grunted, “wasn’t today bad enough? Can’t we just… make peace or whatever?”

“Peace? I don’t remember leading a war,” Oskar said, tilting his head a little. He didn’t slow his pace down for a second, which simply added to the tenseness of the situation.

“Come on, don’t mess with me,” Martin muttered, “why would you basically tell me to fuck off just because I asked what you were doing if we were fine _?_ ”

“Well, from the looks of it, I’m going to the _gym_ with you,” the jungler explained, pointing ahead, “why else would we be walking into the same direction?”

“W-well, that’s…” Martin stammered. He tried to think of a comeback – but, as there were only a couple of more doors to come before they’d reach Rasmus’ room, it might have been too late for that anyway.

“Yeah, right. Stop playing dumber than you are,” Oskar muttered under his breath.

“Huh?”

“Oh, you heard me!” The jungler huffed as he came to a full stop. Martin did, again, almost bump into him, that’s how sudden the other guy stopped in his tracks.

“Shit – well, what do you want me to say?” The ADC hissed back.

“What you want from Rasmus!” Oskar said. His eyes were practically spitting fire at this point.

“Bold of you to assume that’s why I’m here…” Martin remarked, looking around as if this was not the destination he had had in mind.

“Cut the bullshit, Martin…” The jungler murmured, placing his palm on the wooden door they were standing in front of. “You’re here to see him, aren’t you?”

“… and what if I am?” Martin asked, now staring back into the Pole’s obnoxiously blue eyes, “I wanted to talk to him because… he knows what this is like. We’ve been through it together, back then…” He felt his eyes grow less determined and his vision blurring – Martin had not expected to get this emotional about words as little as these. Not yet, anyway. “Besides, what reason do _you_ have to see Rasmus?” He finally asked, trying to shake himself out of the sadness trying to overcome his senses.

“More than you,” Oskar remarked snappily.

“Oh yeah? How so?”

“Well, for one, you guys broke up ages ago. I was with him just… just a couple of weeks ago,” the jungler explained with his voice fading out towards the end of his sentence. Some of his determination seemed to falter as well.

“That’s…” Martin bit his lip. He had not known about that – for all he knew, Oskar and Rasmus had barely ever been an item. Not officially, at least.

“Whatever,” Oskar grumbled, obviously not in the mood to wait for the scrambling ADC to collect his thoughts, “there’s no point in arguing about this anyway. I’m going to knock.”

“What? No, you can’t just – what?” The ADC muttered, hastily looking back and forth the jungler’s dead serious expression and the door they were standing in front of.

“You heard me. Let’s just let Rasmus decide who he wants to see. If you’re so confident about being in the right, you’ve got nothing to be scared of, right?” Oskar shrugged, balling a fist. Before the Swede could intervene, there was a knock. And another. And another.

“Shit – this is crazy, what is he gonna think, seeing us both here?” Martin said, feeling the heat rise to his face.

“Probably that we’re two BFFs looking for a third to gossip,” Oskar remarked, still looking remarkably serious, “if he saw the video, at least.”

“Is this funny to you?” The ADC huffed, one hand on his hip. He would have loved to say more than that, but before he had the chance to do so, the door of the room swung open.

“Rasmus, you’re late, you said you’d be here in 5 and –“

“Huh?”

“Huh?”

“Oh….” Mihael mouthed, glancing up and down the Fnatic players’ bodies. “You’re not Rasmus.”

“Well, neither are you!” Oskar yelled, “what is this, Miky? What are you doing in his room?”

“Exactly…” Martin mumbled, unsure of whether he was relieved or not to have some more time before facing the midlaner.

“I’m his teammate, _Magic the Gathering_ opponent and proud owner of this key card,” the support explained monotonously, presenting said last item in his hand. “Not quite as interesting as whatever you guys might have to turn up here…” Ever so slowly, a grin creeped up on the Slovenian’s face.

“I just want to see him, Miky… I know I haven’t been around much lately, but I want to be now, okay?” Oskar said rather calmly. It made Martin wonder just what kind of relationship the jungler shared with the enemy support.

“Aha… and you?” Mihael asked, tilting his head to look at Martin.

“Same reason, really,” the ADC said with a slow nod. But was that enough?

“Well, not as fun as I had imagined, but fine,” the support sighed, “he’s obviously not here right now… he said he’d be back to play magic soon, though. You want to wait here?”

“What, with you…?” Martin mumbled, trying to hide how little excitement he held for that idea. No one had ever teased the ADC more in less time than the support after all.

“No, I happen to like to spend my time in good company, actually,” Miky remarked snappily, crossing his arms as he stepped aside to let the Fnatic lads pass. “If Magic is off, I might as well go back to Luka’s room to play.”

“Didn’t you mean _your_ room? Where your computer is?” Oskar asked with the hint of a smirk on his lips.

“I meant what I said,” Mihael shrugged, giving the jungler a smug grin, “anyway – tell Rasmus that I’ll kick his ass tomorrow, hmm?”

“Why would we…” Martin mumbled, but the support had already strolled off.

“Damn it, Miky…” Oskar sighed as he sat down on the chair near the room’s desk. He didn’t really look happy about being left alone with Martin. It was not like the ADC could blame him for that - he didn’t feel anywhere close to comfortable as he sat down on the edge of the generous double bed either. “Sooo…” He hummed after some time as he let his gaze wander around Caps’ messy room.

“We don’t have to talk,” the jungler replied solemnly. “We can just sit here and wait.”

“Yeah, well… what if I don’t want that?” The Swede mumbled with one of his feet already starting to fidget quite impatiently. Waiting in silence didn’t sound like the best option for him – it just sounded like even more of a torture.

“What, is it not enough that I have to come babysit botlane all game if we ever want to get a win? Now I have to entertain you outside of the rift as well?” Oskar scoffed, throwing one leg over the other, almost sassily so.

“God, do you have any idea how much you piss me off sometimes??” Martin hissed. There it was again – this feeling like all the anger he had cooked up inside started to gather in his fist. He, of course, knew that violence was not the solution here. But, god, the anger had to go somewhere soon if he ever hoped to see the end of this.

“I couldn’t care less,” the jungler said with a provocative shrug.

“Yeah, right, you don’t care… how about you go back to the other person on this team who doesn’t care about anything?” Martin muttered under his breath. He knew that he wasn’t being fair, but he somehow couldn’t stop the words from leaving his lips.

Oskar raised one of his brow, glaring back at the ADC. “What was that?” He asked with an alarmingly calm tone.

“I said – god, why are you not with Tim, huh? Just go back to Tim and leave me and Rasmus alone!” Martin finally shouted.

“What do you know about me and Tim…” Oskar grumbled, “I leave him alone because he wants to be alone. Because he _always_ wants to be fucking alone. He wouldn’t let me in even if I begged him for it.”

“Uhm…” Martin hummed, slightly taken aback. “I thought you guys were… okay again.”

“Really? Why do you think Pete had us compete in the BFF challenge, out of all people? _Us two?_ God, the joke of the century…” The jungler sighed, scratching the back of his head.

“Might not have been some time ago,” Martin shrugged.

“Yeah, well, can’t exactly change what happened. And you can’t reverse what you did to… to Tim, or to Rasmus. And I’m never going to forgive you for that…” The jungler whispered ominously.

“But that’s where you’re wrong,” the Swede replied, leaning forward a little, “Rasmus said that he wanted to forgive me… that we could try to find our way back to each other.”

“What? No, that doesn’t sound right,” Oskar mumbled, blinking a couple of times, “just a couple of weeks ago, he said he’d… that maybe we could…”

“You must have misunderstood something there.” Martin explained casually, “at least I felt like his intentions were clear when he… kissed me.”

“He did?”

“He did. During group stage, actually.”

“Huh… well, that is unfortunate,” Oskar sighed, staring down on the floor, “but… that doesn’t mean he’d choose you over me right now.”

“Didn’t you hear me?” Martin grumbled.

“I did, but a little kiss doesn’t scare me. I can compete with a lot more than that,” the jungler said calmly, now looking back up to reveal a surprisingly threatening aura to the Swede. Martin swallowed hard. “Since when is this a competition, huh?” The ADC asked, trying not to let his nerves show.

“Since the moment you entered this room with me… ah, maybe before that,” the Pole considered.

“This is ridiculous… what are we competing for, exactly?”

“This night… with Rasmus.” Oskar explained, still looking way too serious for what he was saying.

“Wow, how chivalrous… are you gonna punch me again? Is that it? Close combat?” Martin huffed.

“That won’t be necessary. The facts are that I am superior to you, I don’t need my fists to prove that.” The jungler remarked with a smug grin on his lips. _Oh_ , how that pushed Martin’s buttons.

“Superior to me? How? What?” The ADC stared at the other guy with a point blank expression.

“You want a list?” Oskar tilted his head, “well, what matters most here is that… you know, I’m the better lover. I’d actually make this night _worthwhile_ for Rasmus.”

“Wow – what the hell are you talking about, huh?” Martin frowned.

“Exactly what I said – god, are you deaf or what…”

“No! Ugh, it’s just… where are you getting your damn facts from?” The ADC went on, slowly rising from the bed, “I mean, in terms of the number of people I’ve been with I –“

“Oh, numbers?” Oskar replied, still quite calmly, “you want to compare numbers? Sure, give me numbers, let’s see how that plays out for you…!”

“What –“ Martin huffed – for whatever reason, he froze up. Maybe it was the sheer amount of confidence metaphorically oozing out of the jungler’s pores that was intimidating him. Maybe it was the fact that he had no idea about the actual sexual history of his opposite, let alone the skills he was bragging about. Yes, after all these years, Martin still hadn’t found a way to deal with defying losses, sometimes to the point where he was afraid to accept a challenge.

“That’s what I thought…” The Pole mumbled, tapping his knee with his index finger, “see, I do think that you might have had as many as me… but I also bet at least half of these people were women, no?”

“So what?” Martin murmured grumpily. He dared to take one step into the jungler’s direction. “You already checked off everything else, do you want to bully me for being bi now, too?”

“No, of course not… I’m just saying that those experiences don’t exactly add to your _dick-sucking-abilities_ , do they?” Oskar smirked as he came to a stand as well.

“My – my what?” Martin stammered. His instincts were telling him to move back, but his mind was telling him to stay where he was, no matter how ridiculous this weird stand-off felt.

“You heard me… ¾ of a banana, huh? Is that supposed to impress me?” Oskar huffed, taking another step towards Martin. He was threateningly close – it was almost as if he used his overwhelming presence to fight. Or maybe his words. Oh, it was the combination of both that scared Martin, even more so than the Pole’s fist he had once felt too fast and too close.

“Are we seriously gonna talk about that? Now?” Martin said, glancing around the room, “…here?”

“What better time than now?” The jungler replied as he lifted his chin a little, almost as if he was looking down at the other guy, despite their similar height.

“You’re actually serious about this… well,” the ADC sighed, propping one hand up on his hip for moral support, “I didn’t want to say this but… I don’t think there’s any way in hell that you’re the better lover out of the two of us.”

“For someone who didn’t want to say that you look pretty damn smug right now,” Oskar grinned, “well, how about some hard evidence, lover boy?”

“You’re ridiculous… what evidence could I have?” The Swede remarked as he rolled his eyes, “don’t tell me you carry written appraisals from past affairs around with you…”

“Pff, no need for something like that,” the Pole huffed almost mockingly.

Martin grew even more uneasy, if that was even possible at this point, as he noticed the other guy’s aura shift – there was this sense of chaos. Anarchy, even. _I hope I’m just imagining things_ , Martin thought, biting his lower lip as subtly as he could, _either that, or he’s losing his mind_. “What are you proposing, then?”

“I don’t know, I can just… show you.” Oskar said. There was this weird intensity in his voice that Martin didn’t know how to assess.

“What are you gonna do… call room service and order us two bananas or what?” Martin muttered nervously. His urge to move back had simply grown stronger now that the jungler’s expression had changed.

“Right, because that wouldn’t overcomplicate things…” Oskar sighed. In a flash, he pressed his flat hand against Rekkles’ chest and pushed him back, causing him to fall onto the bed. It happened fast enough to make the Swede gasp for air. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He asked as soon as he had recovered from the shock.

“Don’t make such a big deal out of it… I’m just gonna show you. Why I’m better.”

“That’s just – that’s crazy,” Martin huffed, trying to prop himself up on his elbows – but he didn’t get up to leave. He should just get up and leave, right? Then why wouldn’t his body move? Why did it start to feel like the room was getting hotter instead?

“See, I knew you were prude like that,” Oskar mumbled as he climbed onto the bed as well. He was towering over the ADC, with a flash of unpredictable excitement glistening up in his eyes.

“I’m not…” Martin muttered with pouty lips. He was sure that he could win this battle – he had been trained by none other than xPeke, after all. It felt absolutely ludicrous, of course. But there was something about it…

“What’s the problem, then?” Oskar said, stretching his arms out while kneeling on the bed, “we can blow off some steam and whoever loses the race has to leave… deal?”

“This is… I thought you said you wanted Rasmus to choose who he wanted to be with today?” Martin asked hesitantly. He glanced down the jungler’s body without even noticing at first. The Swede suddenly found himself wondering what the same black sweatpants he wore everyday were hiding from his sight.

“That would be the mature thing to do, yeah,” Oskar admitted. And yet, he leaned down, with his hands placed on either side of Martin’s hips. “But this is probably a little less boring for us than just waiting for Rasmus to come back, don’t you think?”

“I…” Martin swallowed.

“Come on, Martin, I just… really want to fucking win something today.”

 _Shit, me too_ , Martin thought, taking a deep breath as he took in the Pole’s lulling words. That didn’t make this situation any less surreal though, now did it? He felt his blood rushing down into his nether region regardless. “Do you think he’s going to take a while to come back, then?” He asked after a moment.

“Maybe, I don’t know,” the jungler shrugged, “won’t take long, though… do we have a deal or not?”

“You’re crazy,” Martin whispered again. He meant it. It felt so wrong, but, at the same time, the Swede had troubles with holding back his desire to do _something_ about the numb pain in his chest. After the press conference, he had set out to look for comfort. Arguably, bodily pleasures were what he had indulged in the most in terms of comfort in the past. Yes, comfort. If the Pole really was as good as he claimed he was, then maybe – just maybe…

“So?” Oskar asked after a short pause.

“Yeah… yeah, what the heck,” the ADC grinned, throwing all caution out of the window, “deal.”

“First time you’re making any sense today…” The jungler smirked, “you better be ready, Martin.”

“Same goes for you,” the Swede answered a little too cockily.

“Don’t make me laugh,” Oskar shook his head with a grin on his lips, “so – top or bottom?”

“Uhm, what?”

“You know, do you want to lie on you back or go on top… 69 is obviously the only fair way to settle this.” The jungler explained casually.

“I mean… I guess?” Martin mumbled, blushing for whatever reason, “I’m already on my back, so…”

“Huh, I could have sworn you’d die to be on top,” Oskar sneered, but he didn’t seem to mind. He pushed himself up to turn around quite elegantly, now kneeling beside the ADC with his hands remaining on his hips. “But we’re still missing a crucial step of preparation here…”

Martin held his breath. He didn’t know whether it was the banter or the weirdly tense atmosphere, but his pants were already starting to feel tight around his cock. And, from the looks of it, Oskar was about to do something about that.

“There,” the jungler muttered as he pulled the Swede’s sweatpants down in a flash. Martin flinched at first – but, in the next moment, as he felt the Pole’s curious eyes on him, his insecurity turned into excitement. Fire. There was a fire in his eyes – and, soon after, in Martin’s loins.

“Ah, guess I was wrong… you do look ready,” Oskar grinned, gently teasing the ADC’s hard on over the soft fabric of his black boxer briefs.

“So what…” Martin huffed. In one quick motion, he returned the favour, pulling the jungler’s pants down far enough to reveal that he was, in fact, not the only one who was excited. The grey, chequered boxershorts Oskar was wearing were sitting a lot tighter than the underwear model of choice would suggest. His hands lingered on the other guy’s upper thighs, giving them a firm squeeze.

“Shit – well, we might as well…” Oskar muttered, shuffling over so that he could move his mouth closer to the ADC’s erection. It only took Martin a lose pulling motion to finally get the jungler to move his leg over his head, awkwardly wiggling out of his sweatpants in the process. It took some adjusting and a lot of unintelligible cursing until a proper 69 position was achieved, but they got there, eventually. With their underwear still in place, there was just one little problem left to overcome.

“How is this… supposed to work?” Martin asked, slightly pulling on the Pole’s boxers in confusion.

“This is… stage one,” the jungler explained, stroking up and down the Swede’s dick over the black fabric, “I’ll make you lose your mind before even taking these off.”

“Cocky…” The ADC mumbled, moving his hands upwards ever so slowly. Yes, no matter how you looked at it, the fact that both of his hands were free to move around as he wished was a clear advantage here. Oskar had to use one hand, or at least elbow, to stabilize himself at all times. A grin hushed across Martin’s face as he enclosed the Pole’s hard cock in one hand while squeezing his surprisingly juicy ass with the other.

“Yeah, well…” was all that Oskar hummed in response.

Seconds later, Martin felt the other guy’s hot breath close to his dick, which almost made him gasp for air. The jungler’s lips nibbled on the fabric way too sensually, and Martin soon understood how he had planned on making him loose his mind. He was not about to let that happen, though – with as much concentration as he could manage, the ADC closed his eyes to think about absolutely unerotic things. _Clipped toe nails, Pete’s camera duster, that one mug Bwipo forgot to wash for weeks_ , he pondered, trying to conjure the images in front of his inner eye as he stroked Oskar’s length. It seemed to work for just about a second, but then he felt Oskar’s tongue soaking through his underwear – now, that simply wasn’t fair play anymore, was it?

Martin knew that he’d have to do something to keep up with the pace. With sudden force, he pulled Oskar’s hips down a little to allow himself access with his mouth as well. As his right hand was still jerking the jungler’s thick cock through the boxers, causing sweet, sweet friction, his mouth found Oskar’s balls. As soon as he felt the other guy’s body tense up for just a second, Martin was sure that he was walking down the right path with this one. “You like that, huh?” He asked provocatively.

“So what…” Oskar huffed, breathing against Martin’s erection quite heavily – oh, that certainly didn’t make it any easier for the ADC. “You’ve got a big mouth for someone who’s already leaking..”

There was no denying that the first drops of precum had already made the Swede’s underwear stick to his hard-on, that much was sure. But Oskar was not the only one playing. “I might be leaking but…” Martin grinned, teasing the sticky part of the jungler’s boxers which was wrapped around the tip of his dripping cock. He could practically feel it pulsing in his hand, despite the fabric in between.

“Geez, well… what can I say, I like a good competition,” Oskar mumbled. Slowly, he swung his leg back over the ADC’s head to sit down on the bed.

“What are you doing?” Martin asked, not even trying to hide the irritation in his stare. There was no way the jungler could have just played him, was there? No – no, not when his dick was practically begging to be touched. There was no way.

“What do you mean… I’ll give this one to you,” the jungler said, now pushing himself up, “time for stage two…” Without another warning, he pulled down his boxers and tossed them away. Martin swallowed hard – he couldn’t help but stare. He had already felt how thick the other guy’s hard on was without laying eyes on it but seeing the real thing inches away from his face was a whole nother thing.

“You want me to do it for you, princess? Or are you gonna take them off yourself?” Oskar asked with a smug grin, nodding towards Martin’s boxer briefs.

“Geez, give me a minute…” The Swede mumbled. His eyes remained on the jungler’s nether region, even as he pulled down his sticky underwear. It had been a while since he had last laid eyes on a new dick, after all – and this one was, on top of that, arguably one of the most intriguing ones he had ever seen. Martin licked his lips without even noticing. But, judged by the smirk on the Pole’s face, he had seen it.

“Alright then…” Oskar mumbled as he climbed back into position. Martin wondered whether he had looked just as shameless whenever he had been on top in this suggestive position before. The answer was probably yes. With an amused smile on his lips, the ADC took the cock into his hands with his arms positioned around the jungler’s thighs. The generous amount of precum dripping down from the tip made it quite easy for his slender fingers to slide up and down. While he was still taking in the sight he was presented with, Martin felt Oskar move at a much quicker pace.

After stroking up and down his erection a couple of times, the jungler had already engulfed Martin’s whole glans with his lips. Seconds afterwards, his tongue started to swirl – slowly at first, much faster soon after. Without even realizing it at first, Martin held his breath. If he had been able to grow any harder, this was the moment it would have happened. And, even if he could have managed to think about anything to ebb out his arousal, it probably wouldn’t have worked anymore by now.

But, as good as he felt in this moment, he was determined not to fall short. The ADC leaned forward with his tongue out and started licking the tip of Oskar’s dick as he tried to find the right angle to push it down his throat. He could already feel that that was where the jungler was heading – deep, deeper, as deep as anyone possibly could. Subtle gagging noises filled the room as Oskar’s lips touched the base of Martin’s cock. _The whole thing?_ The Swede thought, barely able to grasp what was happening – his nails dug into the jungler’s thighs, almost as if he was holding on for dear life.

Oskar wiggled his hips a little, almost victoriously – but Martin wouldn’t go down just yet. He might not be able to go down quite as far as the other guy, even if he had tried. But, in the end, he still had a different ace up his sleeve. While Martin sucked the tip of Oskar’s cock into his mouth, steadying it with one hand as it kept wanting to spring up towards the other guy’s stomach, his other hand wandered upwards. This time, it wasn’t searching for the jungler’s balls.

Carefully, Martin’s index finger brushed up the taint, all the way up to Oskar’s hole. He circled around it, gently at first, waiting for a reaction – despite the Pole’s boasting, he didn’t want to do anything uncalled for, after all. It only took Oskar a second to push back against Martin’s finger, signalling that he didn’t just _not mind_ it. Oh, he wanted it. Almost as if to prove that, the jungler quickened his pace, sliding up and down the Swede’s hard cock a little faster. With his mind spinning relentlessly, Martin could barely hold on to the impeccable plan he had forged back in stage one. Just barely, though.

“You’re gonna love this,” he murmured, somehow managing to supress a moan as he opened his mouth. He resumed stroking the jungler’s dick with his hand as he leaned his head back a little, eyeing the other guy’s ass a little more closely. He effortlessly pushed one finger inside, and Oskar flinched a little in response. Martin could have sworn that he had heard a small whimper as well – _this is it_ , he thought with the hint of a smirk on his lips as he moved his head up.

“N-no reason to get cocky just yet,” Oskar stammered, breathing heavily as he pulled back from the Swede’s dick just to get one in before getting back at it. He barely wasted a breath.

“Oh yeah?” Martin murmured, concentrating on sounding equally as confident.

He slowly pulled out his finger, using his hand to spread out Oskar’s ass a little instead to get a better look. Oh, the sight didn’t exactly help with taming his arousal, but it did make the ADC want to go further even more. There were a thousand things he could have asked or made sure of before proceeding, but Martin’s sense of caution had been thrown out of the window by the time Oskar’s mouth sucking on his pulsing dick had sent him back into his horny teenager days.

And so, he dove into Oskar’s ass, face first. Now, the sensation of the ADC’s tongue circling his hole was finally enough to make the jungler let out a muffled grunt, which got almost swallowed up by his occasional gagging noises. But he didn’t stop moving up and down still, and Martin slowly but surely felt himself approaching the finish line. He didn’t have any time to waste. The Swede slid his tongue inside Oskar’s hole, swirling it around as much as the tight entrance allowed him to. Only seconds later, he felt the jungler get even tighter. Martin’s hand was still jerking the other guy off furiously, matching the speed in which Oskar’s head kept moving up and down. Again, the taste of victory was right there, on the tip of his tongue. A satisfied moan escaped his lips.

But then, Martin felt Oskar’s hand starting to massage his balls. If the jungler could have said anything while he was practically choking on the Swede’s cock, it might have been _‘game over’_. Absolutely helplessly, Martin felt himself getting pushed over the edge. He groaned against Oskar’s hole with his tongue still inside, tensing up a little as he finally came, shooting his hot cum all the way down his jungler’s throat. It was hard to tell whether Oskar was just trying to swallow it all or actually grunting as well – but, as the Pole’s dick twitched in his hand, Martin knew it must have been the latter. He pushed his face forward even further, quickening the pace of his jerking motion as well. As great as his own high was still feeling, he wanted this satisfaction just as much, if not more. In one swift motion, Oskar pulled his head back, moaning, “fuck, fuck!” The Pole grinded against Martin’s face, practically riding it as he shot his load all over the ADC’s chest.

The Swede pulled his tongue out as soon as the jungler’s hips stopped moving, giving his hole a final, good lick. Oskar was still trying to catch his breath as he slowly let himself fall onto the bed, not able to hold himself up anymore. Martin had a hard time calming down his breathing as well, and his heartbeat was out of control as well. The both of them stared at the blank ceiling for a while without saying anything. Only soft pants were filling the room.

“So…” Martin finally whispered. “who won?”

“What do you mean?” Oskar mumbled, “you clearly came first.”

“But only like.. a few seconds earlier,” the Swede argued, “and you came… so hard.”

“Well…” the jungler muttered quietly. He almost sounded shy all of a sudden.

“Plus, I won the first round,” Martin added. He licked his lips, on which the taste of his personal victory lingered on.

“I don’t know,” Oskar shrugged a little, too exhausted to perform the whole movement, “I’d say we call it a tie. But only ‘cause I’m feeling generous…”

“A tie?” Martin mumbled as he slowly sat himself up, “you didn’t seriously ruin my hoodie for a _tie?_ ” He demonstratively pointed towards the huge cum stains gracing his chest. The black hoodie the ADC was wearing was certainly not very forgiving.

“Not my fault you didn’t want to swallow,” Oskar grinned, still lying flat on his back, “another reason why I should win, by the way.”

“Ah, whatever…” Martin said quietly. Somehow, somewhere along the way, he had forgotten what the goal of this competition was in the first place. He glanced down Oskar’s body and, without even realizing it, his hand reached out to pull the other guy’s shirt up a little to give himself a better view.

“What are you doing?”

“Just… we should have taken these off,” he murmured, “wouldn’t have gotten stains on my hoodie then.”

“Too late now,” Oskar simply replied.

“I guess,” Martin nodded. “Say, Oskar…”

“Yeah?”

“Do you really think you and Rasmus could… be something again?” Martin asked. He didn’t know where the question was coming from, or why he felt the need to ask it now, but here we were.

Oskar closed his eyes, seemingly considering the ADC’s words for a moment. “Honestly… I don’t know. Probably not. But after today… I just didn’t want to think that I could lose everything in a single day.”

“Oh… yeah,” the Swede hummed, slowly crossing his legs to sit more comfortably, “I guess I felt the same way…”

“You’re one of those, huh?” Oskar huffed, smiling with his eyes still closed.

“…One of what?”

“Those guys who get sentimental after coming. Such a cliché, really,” the jungler chuckled.

“That – that’s not it at all,” Martin scoffed, crossing his arms to match his legs rather sullenly.

“Sure, sure…” Oskar smirked. There was another pause.

“Oskar…?” Martin asked again.

“Yeah?”

“What if Rasmus won’t come back here?”

“What if… I don’t know, he’ll probably be back eventually, right?” The jungler wondered aloud. “This is his room, after all.”

“Sure but that will probably… take some more time, from the looks of it.” Martin mumbled, lazily glancing over towards the room’s door.

“What, are you scared we’ll get bored?” Oskar snickered as he slowly opened his eyes again, looking up at the sitting ADC.

“No, I was just thinking that – you know, you might be better at sucking dick than me, but that’s not all a good lover has to offer.” Martin explained.

“I thought you just said you were over this thing…” Oskar muttered, slowly rising up into a sitting position as well. “Is there a point in arguing if neither of us could really… you know?”

“I don’t think you understand,” the Swede shook his head, “this is still a competition and… I’m just not happy with a tie.”

“You’re back to not making any sense I see,” Oskar grinned, tilting his head a little, “well – what do you have in mind, hmm?”

“We should just compare more than what we have so far, right?” Martin murmured with his cheeks suddenly growing hotter. He couldn’t explain why – why had he even come here in the first place? What was he doing now? It all blurred in his mind. There was only one thing he had set his eyes on somehow.

“More? More like what?” Oskar wondered, “who’s the better bottom bitch?”

“As if you’ve ever bottomed for anyone,” Martin huffed dismissively. The thought felt absurd, considering the sheer amount of dominance the jungler had exuded during the whole scene – then again…

“What, you haven’t?” Oskar cocked a brow, giving the other guy a smug grin.

“Shit – does that mean I wasn’t wrong? You came in _prepared_ today?” Martin chuckled in disbelief. He did have a hunch somewhere in the middle of it all, but it seemed to absurd at the time.

“Sure did… guess you never stuck it out for Rasmus? Your loss,” the jungler said, back to his provocative tone. It didn’t irk Martin quite as much as it had before now.

“Oh… well,” the ADC whispered with a smile on his lips. The situation just kept getting more interesting. “I guess it’s my turn to choose. Bring it on for stage three.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, that happened. Originally, I just wanted to have some more Capsmade in my life, man... well, never say never! 
> 
> Feedback / Kudos are greatly appreciated :) <3 Next chapter will probably be less smutty haha...
> 
> ...unless?

**Author's Note:**

> That's a wrap on Hylimom's and Bwipodad's romantic getaway - how did you like it? I found it a little calming to write, especially with nods towards the rumours of roster changes flying around all day... 
> 
> Comments and Kudos are highly appreciated! I do plan on writing little snippets for the other players as well once I get the chance to - oh, what do we have but time...


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